


Live Like Tomorrow Doesn't Exist

by kaizoku



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Train Hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:38:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaizoku/pseuds/kaizoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After breaking out of prison, Johanna and Peeta hop a freight train across Panem, on the way to District 13. A snapshot of their journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live Like Tomorrow Doesn't Exist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galfridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfridian/gifts).



> Many thanks to [flammablehat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/) for being an extraordinary beta and letting me borrow your brain. And to A. for your patience. <3
> 
> Please see end notes for content notes/warnings.

They have to wait until dark to catch the train. Their District 3 hosts are planning to create a technical glitch in the train's system - Johanna doesn't follow how but she nods anyway as Macro explains. Johanna is watching Peeta out of the corner of her eye as he watches the sanitized Capitol news reports on a handheld device. She wishes that Macro hadn't loaned it to him, but he looks almost happy, and Peeta is short on things to be happy about right now.

Not that Johanna is full of joy. She's exhausted, bruised and battered and terrified and angry, and watching Peeta stare vacantly at the screen while she tries to figure out how to get him to District 13 rankles.

What's worse is that they don't even know if District 13 is still standing. The Capitol says it was leveled in the last bombing raid. The rebels have sources that say otherwise, that there's more to District 13 hidden underground, that there are survivors. The first night they were here, Macro showed them a film - obviously staged - where Katniss talked about how District 12, her and Peeta's district, was destroyed by the Capitol. Before it was over, Peeta threw a chair at the screen and stormed out.

Johanna likes it here, is the thing. It's weird, because the rebels remind her of Beetee, but they're smart and blunt and they get shit done. She would stay with them and fight, but for Peeta, who doesn't know what side he's on or seem to care, it's just another prison with guards posted outside his door.

And the rebels don't like him. Johanna has a feeling that if they stay, she's going to come back from a meeting and find Peeta with his throat slit. And then, when all of this is over, Katniss will hold _her_ responsible. Somehow she has no doubt about that.

The first thing they hear is the growing rumble of the train, then the whistle, long and mournful in the still of dusk. Then they see the lights. They're sitting in a berm behind a short bank, hidden by trees.

"Here we go," Johanna murmurs. She cinches her new backpack tighter and checks her stowed knives again, for reassurance. She wanted an axe, but that was deemed too heavy. Peeta is silent beside her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his new, ill-fitting clothing. He has a gun but it's unloaded at Johanna's insistence. Their prison uniforms have been hidden or burnt. 

Suddenly the train is there, blaring out of the dark, its headlights blinding for a few seconds. Johanna shrinks lower, even though they're well out of sight.

It doesn't slow down. Car after car flashes by them and it seems like the train is maintaining constant speed. Johanna starts to wonder if their friends were able to make the glitch go through. After what seems like an interminable length of time - 5 minutes by her watch - the brakes screech and it starts to slow.

Finally it's running slow enough, maybe 15 mph, that Johanna thinks they could jump on, but all she can see is hopper cars full of coal. Not exactly how Johanna wants to ride. Their new friends said to wait until it comes to a full stop, but she's impatient. Peeta has started rubbing his forehead and eyes, and that, Johanna has learned, is not a good sign.

"Come on, let's go take a look." The locomotive is far enough away now that no one should see them. She's not worried about cameras. Only the passenger and high-speed trains are equipped with that level of technology.

"How do we even know that the train is going the right way?" Peeta asks grumpily. Johanna rolls her eyes.

"It's going east," she says. They have a blurry map of train routes, printed and copied and copied again, and then drawn over with newer lines. According to Macro, this train should get them as far as District 5, and then they'll have to catch a different one out to District 8 or 12.

The train is going slow enough that they could keep pace walking along beside it if they chose. Johanna touches Peeta's shoulder, telegraphing the movement so that he looks up at her, then nods. They walk in the opposite direction the train is going, looking for a chink in the armor: an open door, or some other hiding spot. Eventually the cars change to a different type.

Johanna had hoped to find an empty boxcar, but they haven't seen any hitched to this train. The ones passing them now are grain cars, like the coal cars but with covered tops.

Finally, the train stutters to a halt.

Peeta pauses abruptly and Johanna bumps into him. Without the grinding of the wheels along the track, the night is still and that makes her antsy. She keeps looking around as they walk. Then suddenly she's inches from Peeta. He smells like soap and sweat and leaves, and strangely like bread, a warm, slightly yeasty smell. It's comforting. In Peeta's bag, there are square District 3 rolls, the same kind that were sent to them in the Quarter Quell Games, in addition to the dry rations. Maybe that's it.

"Look," Peeta says. Johanna looks away - she's been staring at the hairs curling at the nape of Peeta's neck. (Her own hair is just beginning to grow back and she's wearing a dark cap - she figured her bald head could catch the light and give them away.)

Peeta is pointing at the car that they've come even with. There's some kind of graffiti there. Peeta takes out his flashlight and shines it on the side of the car. It's not the Mockingjay symbol - apparently that's too risky even for a vandal. It's a small circle within a larger one, with twelve spokes dividing them into slices. The larger circle is open at the top, marked by a squiggle. Maybe because she was just thinking of the bread, but it only takes her a second to realize what it is: the arena, the forcefield broken by lightning. 

"This one," Peeta says.

Johanna laughs. "That's just asking for trouble."

"No one would suspect. Because you would have to be crazy to hide in that car." Peeta smiles. 

"Especially if you're a victor-turned-tribute-turned-traitor-to-the-Capitol," Johanna says. She pauses. "Yeah, we need a better word for that."

Peeta gives her a look. "Crazy?" He suggests.

Well, it's not like Johanna has the best claim on sanity. "Fine! Let's check it out."

They climb the ladder up to the porch at the back of the car. Johanna throws her backpack up first, wincing as her shoulder twinges. Peeta is slow on the ladder, probably because of his leg, but he doesn't say anything.

There's a round hole at the end of the car. Peeta looks inside with his flashlight.

"It's not a lot of room," he says dubiously, but they wedge themselves and their packs inside. It's a low chamber about four feet wide and eight feet long, empty and relatively clean. The middle wall is vertical, while the wall at the end of the car is slanted. By the size of the car, there must be two or three other sections.

Peeta turns off the flashlight. They sit in the dark. Slowly Johanna feels her muscles start to relax. She's tired. Could probably fall asleep sitting here. She thinks about unpacking her sleeping bag, but she won't really be able to relax until the train starts moving again.

Meanwhile Peeta is moving around, apparently trying to explore the compartment without light. He pokes his head out of the hole several times. Johanna wonders if he's a claustrophobic. She's not thrilled herself to be stuck in a space smaller than her prison cell was.

"I hope you're not going to be like this the entire ride," she complains when Peeta trips over her leg for the second time.

Finally, after almost an hour, the train shifts underneath them and starts to chug forward. Johanna joins Peeta at the opening to look out. All she can see is the front of the next car and a patch of star-strewn sky.

That's when they hear the explosions. They're loud, but not so loud that Johanna thinks they're in any danger. Unless the train itself has been damaged or derailed, but then she would expect to feel something and the motion is smooth.

She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder - Peeta. It's too dark to see his face.

"The rebels," he says.

"Shit, you're right."

She squirms through the hole, and clutches the railing as the train picks up speed. All she can see is the forest, an outline of trees against the dark sky. When she looks toward the head of the train, she thinks she can see smoke but it's hard to tell.

She hopes they're okay. It's impossible to know what's happening unless they jump off and then they'll have lost their chance. A chance that may have been bought with lives.

"Do you think the Capitol knows we're on the train?" Peeta asks, his voice echoing hollowly in the metal tube. It's harder to tell what he's thinking in the dark, Johanna realizes. She's learned to read the signals of his face and his body, to tell when he's slipping. She shivers as the cold wind rushes over her.

"No," she decides. "Not yet. They'll probably assume the train was stopped to try to mess with their supply lines."

Macro had said as much, that they already were stopping trains headed for the Capitol, so it wouldn't look suspicious. Johanna crawls back inside and this time, she does lay out her sleeping bag. There's nothing else to do now, except wait.

* * *

A noise makes Johanna jolt upright. She doesn't know where she is for a second, but she has her knife in her hand. Everything is shaking and loud around her. Then she remembers. Train. Peeta.

"Peeta?" She asks. She feels around for her pack, and touches something soft, skin, instead. A hand fastens hard around her wrist.

"Peeta, it's me, it's Johanna," she says. He's bruising her wrist. "Fuck. Let go!" She stuffs the knife away, so she can use her other hand to peel off his fingers.

He murmurs something in the dark that she can't hear and then she's shoved up against the wall and his hands are around her neck this time, choking off her air.

Johanna doesn't hesitate to kick Peeta anywhere she can reach. She feels her foot connect with something that gives and kicks again, while her hands go automatically to his hands and she digs in with her nails. She's not using the knife, not yet. For Johanna, that's restraint.

Peeta cries out in pain and lets go. Johanna coughs, feeling her throat burn. What's worse is that she feels really, really stupid for falling asleep. She's seen enough to know that Peeta's unstable, and she should remember that he's dangerous. But it's easy to forget that when he's himself. Or not _himself_ exactly, not the same as he was in the Games. But quiet, thoughtful, slow to anger. A burden, but not an enemy.

Easy to underestimate. And Johanna knows all about that.

She braces herself for another attack but nothing happens except that Peeta moans. Johanna crouches and edges along the wall until she reaches her pack. She leans down and fishes the flashlight out of it, then flicks it on and shines it at Peeta.

He doesn't flinch or react to the light at all. He's curled up, shaking and staring in the other direction. His nose is bleeding, though Johanna doesn't remember hitting him in the face.

Something in her chest hurts, a dull throb. Maybe a pulled muscle. She has a weird urge to touch Peeta, wipe his face at least... not something Johanna does and it wouldn't help in this situation anyway. She banishes the thought.

"Peeta," she sighs. Maybe talking will help bring him out of it? She's not sure he'll be able to hear her over the noise of the train though. "Peeta. Man, that is a dumb name. Who gives their kid a name like that?" She tries to remember anything about Peeta's family from the broadcast of the 74th Hunger Games. She thinks that there might have been a brother, but her policy was always to watch as little of the Games as possible. Her own District's tributes were finished off early and she tuned out after that, until Finnick made her watch a recap of Katniss blowing up the Careers' supplies. (She was more than a little envious.)

Then she remembers that Peeta's family died in District 12.

"Sorry," she says. "I'm sure your parents were lovely people. Bakers, right?" she remembers. "I'm sorry-" Johanna swallows. She didn't say it before, when they heard the news, but she does now. "That they're gone." She knows what it's like to be alone in the world.

She jumps when Peeta jerks, but he's not reacting to her. He's breathing hard. Drops of sweat stand out on his forehead.

"Hey," she says. "There's nothing there! Whatever you're seeing, it's not there. You're on a train right now. You're out of prison. You're free! Hey, what's more freeing than hopping a train and riding through Panem while Snow freaks out that we've disappeared. Right, Peeta?"

Johanna doesn't think this is working. She doesn't really know how to do comforting. 

Peeta starts to feel along the walls again, the way he did earlier, but he seems more agitated now. He's moving like he's blind, unable to see what he's touching. She's afraid he might find the hole and try to crawl out, and she doesn't know what he would do then - fling himself off the train? Johanna tries to sidle past, to get between him and the exit.

Unfortunately, moving in front of him attracts his attention and Peeta snarls and crouches like a cornered animal.

There are basically two options, Johanna thinks: (A) knock Peeta out. Or (B) find a way to calm him down. The other time he was like this, when they were escaping, it seemed like pain brought him out of it. But she kicked him pretty hard earlier and it didn't do any good. Assuming Johanna could inflict more pain without permanent damage - and that's a big assumption to make - there's no guarantee that it would work or that it wouldn't escalate or make Peeta worse.

They don't have the option of either of them getting badly hurt out here. There's little more than first aid supplies in her pack. Traveling light is a necessity.

Johanna wracks her brain. She really wishes now that she had gotten Macro to give her some kind of tranquilizer. Or stolen some, why didn't she think of that? She switches her grip on the flashlight, ready to use it on Peeta if it comes to that. And the beam falls on the snakes' nest of bungees strapped to her pack.

 _Okay_ , Johanna thinks in the seconds before Peeta launches himself at her, _option C._

She sidesteps just as Peeta reaches her and lets his forward momentum help her wrestle him down. He thrashes and cries out and Johanna feels her heart clench, but she doesn't stop, pressing her weight into his back and using the knowledge of his prosthesis ruthlessly to trap and pin his legs.

She has one chance at this. Peeta is fighting to kill or be killed, whereas Johanna wants to keep them both alive and intact.

With one hand pressing his face into the metal, she scrabbles for the bungee cords with the other. The flashlight has fallen somewhere and is illuminating the slanted endwall. She's planning to tie him to the support beam at that end, once she has him restrained.

Peeta turns his head and bites her hand. Johanna swears and lets go long enough to slap him. Peeta screams - shit, she forgot about his nose - and bucks harder, managing to free an arm and punch her in the stomach.

Johanna grunts, the breath knocked out of her, and drives her knees down to keep her balance. She has the bungee cords though, and she grabs Peeta's wrists and winds them around. Tying them off proves challenging. He manages to turn over and Johanna slides to the side but holds on. She feels like she's trying to reel in a fish that keeps fighting even when it's caught. She tightens her legs and yanks his arms up, cinching the cord tighter, until there's enough slack to knot it.

The train car rocks them hard suddenly, throwing Johanna back against Peeta and her face presses into the side of his neck, her nose rubbing up against his ear. Peeta gasps. Johanna feels it more than sees it, the muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows. What's more interesting is that he goes suddenly still.

Johanna maneuvers herself so she can lift her torso up and looks into his eyes. They're unfocused. He's not struggling though. Tense, almost vibrating, but not struggling.

The adrenaline of the fight is still coursing through her, making every millisecond seem heightened, slowed-down. She leans forward, careful, watching Peeta's face, and breathes out against his neck.

His whole body jerks and Johanna sits back quickly. But now she can see that his eyes are focused, looking at her.

"Hey," she says, unnerved. "Peeta?"

He looks so confused that Johanna reaches out and touches his face. His cheek is scraped, his nose swollen and grotesque in the low light. She really did a number on him.

Peeta frowns, then winces as he tries to move.

"Um, hi." He looks uncomfortable, probably in pain, but he's definitely all there. He stares at Johanna and frowns some more. "Are you - what are you doing?"

Johanna laughs - from relief, mostly, and shakiness.

"Trying to wake you up," she says. "You had another episode."

It seems safe to let Peeta go now, so she stands up. The train is still rocking enough that she has to steady herself against the wall. It's only after she's gotten up that Johanna looks at Peeta and realizes that he is aroused. As in, he has an erection. Her mind stumbles over the word - over the fact - and she looks away, feeling her face heat. Not that Johanna has any problem with sex or bodies and their reactions or whatever. It's just - not what she expected, at all.

Suddenly, the last couple of minutes start to make a bizarre kind of sense. And at the same time, Johanna feels foolish. What did she think she was doing? Breathing on Peeta's neck? Where did that come from? But, she thinks with sudden clarity, it _worked._

Peeta tries to push himself up and discovers his hands are bound. He looks up at her, a mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face, and she starts laughing for real.

"Sorry, I mean, not sorry for tying you up, that was necessary." She swallows the laugh that keeps bubbling up. "Sorry, I know it's not funny."

Peeta looks even more annoyed. "Why did you tie me up?"

Johanna sobers. Her stomach hurts now. They're both going to be covered in bruises. 

"Because you were going to kill me or yourself, if I didn't. It was that or knock you out. Would you have preferred that option?"

Peeta struggles to sit up. Johanna grabs his shoulders and lifts him. He scoots away from her to lean against the wall. She notices that he doesn't ask her to untie him.

"So," she says. "You want to tell me what the fuck is going on in your head?"

There's a long pause.

"I was being hunted," Peeta says finally. He's staring into the corner again and it's making Johanna nervous. "In the arena."

Johanna waits.

"You were all chasing me. The victors were. And they were muttations," Peeta looks intensely at Johanna this time, as if maybe he'll catch her - what? Changing into a wolf? She sits down against the wall next to Peeta, leaving plenty of space between them.

"Okay," Johanna says. Peeta is silent. "That sounds like a nightmare."

Peeta nods, and then shakes his head. "Sort of. It doesn't feel like I'm asleep. It's like I'm reliving something that actually happened." Peeta frowns, starts to say something, then stops. Johanna leans closer, trying to hear over the noise of the train.

"What?"

"I think - I think something like that did happen."

"In your first Games," Johanna supplies. She remembers Heavensbee talking about those wolf mutts, how they heightened the drama of that final confrontation. She can understand how that might haunt Peeta.

"In that one and in the Quarter Quell," Peeta says, speaking faster. "And in all the Games. The Capitol has been making muttations for years. They can make them from anything, wolf, monkey, human, or a combination. They can enhance their speed, strength, beauty. Make them into the perfect weapon. Every year, they decide which tribute they want to win and they replace them with a mutt version. Better, stronger. And the mutts almost always win and then they parade them around the Capitol and make everyone love them. So even when the Districts win, they lose."

Johanna has no idea how to respond to that. Peeta sounded reasonable a moment ago, and now he's suddenly gone off the deep end. She's not even sure that he knows what he's saying.

"Do you really believe that? Because it's crazy. You're saying all the victors are mutts?"

Peeta nods. "Not all, but most. For the last ten years, at least."

"So, you think I'm a mutt?"

"No, not you." Peeta says. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so. Fantastic."

"I don't know!" Peeta says, frustrated. "You acted like one in the Capitol. I remember that."

"What? When?" Johanna realizes that taking this personally probably isn't helping, but she can't help it. "You know what, never mind. I'm not a fucking mutt, but I can't prove that to you, can I?"

Peeta is silent.

Johanna blows out a breath. "Is this what they did to you in prison? Got you to believe this shit?"

"In the Quarter Quell," Peeta persists. "You were all trying to kill me--"

"We kept you alive in that arena." She thinks of Mags, of Blight. Tries to keep her anger in check. "Finnick saved your life like ten times."

"No!" Peeta says vehemently. "You were trying to keep _her_ alive. I was just a piece in the game."

"Okay," Johanna says slowly. "I'll grant you that. We wanted to keep you alive so that Katniss wouldn't leave the alliance. But we _did_ keep you alive. You were supposed to be rescued after the forcefield was broken. Both of us were."

Peeta is shaking his head and Johanna gets the feeling that he's fighting with his mind. She needs to shift the conversation or risk losing him again.

"Look, Peeta, when you have one of these dreams or flashbacks or whatever, you're a threat to yourself and to me. That's the bottom line. So, how can we keep that from happening?"

"I... I don't know. I can't always tell when it's starting."

"You were asleep when I startled you. That's how it started this time," Johanna says. "So, I'll try not to wake you up like that again."

"Sometimes it's something that reminds me of the Games. I try not to think about them, but, well, you know. But sometimes it seems like just feeling scared or tired or angry does it."

"So, basically, any time. All the time," Johanna concludes.

"It helps to have something physical to ground me." Peeta says. "Physical sensation."

Johanna's pulse jumps. Peeta isn't looking at her. She isn't sure whether he's thinking about what happened earlier.

"That makes sense," Johanna says. Her mouth is dry. 

She's about to ask him for more specifics, when the train jolts, and they're both thrown off balance.

"Are we stopping?" Peeta tries to position himself so he can get up. Johanna checks out their "window." It's dawn, the sky cloudy, and the terrain has changed. It's rocky with short shrubs - not much cover. They're at a higher elevation here. It feels like the train is working harder to ascend.

"I don't know. We might need to get off soon," she says. She unties Peeta's wrists so that he can climb through the hole, and re-ties them afterward so that they're in front of his body and the cords are a little looser. She bites her lip, watching him stand on the platform, holding the rail one-handed. At least the sides are relatively high.

It's cold outside but it feels good to be out of the cramped metal box. She's stiff from sleeping on the hard floor and really starting to feel her bumps and bruises. She digs out the first aid kit from her pack and pulls out antiseptic, gauze, and acetaminophen tablets. Peeta is struggling to open the jug of water.

"This is stupid. You said it yourself - I'm putting you in danger."

Johanna takes the jug from him and unscrews the cap, then holds it for Peeta to drink. A little water dribbles from the side of his mouth and runs down his throat. Johanna watches as Peeta rubs his chin against his shoulder to catch the drip. His face is a mess, blood and dust mingling to coat his skin, and a stripe of paler skin where he rubbed the mixture off on his shirt.

"You should just leave me and go on. Or go back. I could tell you wanted to stay in District 3," Peeta adds.

"I can fight the Capitol in 3 or 13 or anywhere in between," Johanna says.

"So, why go all the way to 13?"

"Because, you know what will be even sweeter? When we make it to 13 and you reunite with your little lovebird, and the rebels can make one of their propaganda movies with the two of you kissing and shove it in Snow's face."

Hmm. She may have gone over the top there. It's true, though. She wants Snow to suffer. To see that he's lost in every possible way before she kills him.

Peeta shuts his eyes, like he's in pain, and Johanna mentally slaps herself for bringing up Katniss. It's obvious that Peeta feels... ambivalent about her. Johanna suspects that he blames her for him being left behind, and the interrogators must have capitalized on that somehow, twisted it into his current paranoia. But he knows that he loves Katniss. Whatever he's feeling now, he'll probably weep tears of joy when he sees her again. For some reason, the image bothers her.

"Anyway," Johanna says. "How many miles between here and District 13? I'll kill myself out of boredom if I'm on my own. And frankly, I doubt you'll make it without me."

Peeta doesn't say anything. Johanna sighs. She's supposed to be figuring out how to get Peeta to 13 without either of them getting killed, not having revelations about herself.

* * *

Two more days go by on the train, with stops intermittently for faster trains to pass. These stops can take hours. During the day the sun heats the metal, and their car feels like the inside of a sardine tin, the air stifling. They spend most of their time on the porch. Peeta seems fine, strangely more relaxed following the events of the first night. If it were not for their bruises, Johanna would almost doubt it really happened.

By mutual agreement, they leave the cords off during the day. In the evening, Peeta holds out his hands and Johanna binds them together and ties him loosely to one of the beams.

Peeta sketches some during the day, mostly landscapes, trees and hills.

Once Johanna wakes up from a nap and Peeta is staring at her intently, his pencil scratching against the page.

"Are you drawing me?" Johanna asks.

Peeta smiles a little. "Yeah," he admits shyly.

Johanna stretches, letting her T-shirt ride up. She's unwashed, dirty, and gross, but the sun and Peeta's eyes feel good on her skin.

"You'll have to show it to me later," she says, closing her eyes again.

They've been sleeping in shifts since the first night. Johanna thinks about moving to the next car down, but she doesn't like the idea of leaving Peeta by himself. Not to mention, after the sun sinks, the train cools rapidly. Their mutual body heat is probably the only thing that keeps them from freezing. Going over the mountains, they had to put on every item of clothing and wrap themselves up in their sleeping bags and they were still shivering.

The third day, they're rolling through cornfields. Peeta thinks they're probably in District 10. They're passing settlements now and then, so they stay still on the platform, keeping a low profile. As the buildings become denser and the cornfields fewer, Johanna remembers what the District 3 rebels said about train yards and high security. Not every yard, but some are equipped with infrared and heat sensors.

They decide to stay on board, despite the risks. There's almost no cover here and getting caught in one of the districts without identification is asking for trouble.

Johanna's right - it's not long before the train pulls into the yard. They're well hidden in their little compartment, but Johanna is armed and on edge. She can see two other trains sitting on other tracks and one pulling out.

Then she hears footsteps approaching and slides down, out of sight. After they pass, Johanna peers out and sees a railroad worker walking along, inspecting the brakes on each car. Peeta looks alarmed and she motions him to stay quiet.

They stay there for several hours, their ears tuned to the sound of metal crashing and grinding, while their car jerks, yanked forward and back, and then stops. As it gets dark, they dare to come out on the porch and look around. The original train has been shortened - the grain cars unhitched and reattached to a different locomotive. They throw their bags out onto the ground, and climb down surreptitiously. No one seems to be around. Johanna scans the yard, but if there are any guards, she can't see them.

They walk slowly alongside the train until they come to a big pile of gravel, then move behind it and into the thin margin of trees. A truck drives by, headlights flashing over them and they freeze. Johanna's sure that they're caught. But no one jumps out, truck keeps going, and they start to breathe again.

Johanna wants to get farther from the yard after that. After about twenty minutes of walking, they find an old shed back behind a ramshackle, abandoned house. It's easy to jack open the door; a sweep of the flashlight shows that the shed is empty except for some old barrels. They bed down for the night. It's amazing how good it feels to lie on the ground instead of metal, but Johanna finds it hard to fall asleep without the steady rocking of the train.

* * *

When she wakes up, Peeta is gone and it's raining outside.

Except to relieve themselves, they've barely been out of each other's sight. At first she thinks that must be where he is, but then she sees his pack is gone. Rain taps on the metal roof of the shed and Johanna shudders, plugging her ears with her fingers. Twenty, thirty minutes go by and Peeta doesn't come back. Johanna goes to the door and looks out into the miserable grey drizzle. It feels like there's a leaden weight inside her, dragging her down.

She packs up, braces herself, and starts walking to the train yard. It's the only thing she can think to do. Maybe if she's lucky, Peeta will still be there. She stows her pack behind a tree when she gets close. The sensation of her wet clothes sticking to her skin makes her feel panicky and she has to stop and try to take deep breaths.

"Hey, you!" The shout startles her and she turns, viciously glad to have something else to focus on.

It's a man in white uniform, a Peacekeeper. He has a dark beard and piercing eyes. He grabs her shoulder and Johanna forces herself stay still. It's not hard to look small and dejected, helpless, as he sizes her up.

"What are you doing in here?" He shouts. "This is a restricted area. How'd you get in?"

Johanna resists the urge to tell him that she walked.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," she says, "I was looking for my cat."

"Well, you can't be in here." The Peacekeeper says, softening a little. "You're trespassing on government property. Besides, it's dangerous. Trains are big machines. Believe me, they won't even feel it if they run you over."

"Sorry, sir. I won't do it again," Johanna says, shivering.

"All right," the man says. "I'm going to let you go with a warning. Just stay out of here." He escorts her to the gate. She's nervous that he'll recognize her at any second, but he doesn't say anything. She's going to make it.

"You have your identification card?"

Johanna gulps. "Um, yes. Yes, sir. But it's at home."

He looks at her more closely. "Where do you live?"

"Just down there," she says pointing vaguely toward town.

The Peacekeeper sighs. "All citizens of Panem are required to carry proper ID at all times. I don't know why you people can't just follow the rules. They're for your own protection. Come with me, please." Johanna follows warily, as he walks toward a white truck. "I'll drive you home." It's an order, not an offer.

There's no one else around, just her and the Peacekeeper. She can take him. Her hand is inches from the knife strapped under her arm. The only question is whether to do it in the open, partially hidden from view by the bulk of the truck or wait until they're in the cab.

Then she sees Peeta running headlong for them. Her first instinct is to shout at him to stop, but that will give him away for sure. Instead she pretends to stumble, drawing the Peacekeeper's attention and as he reaches out a hand, Peeta slams into him. They both fall forward into the mud. Peeta has the advantage of surprise, but the Peacekeeper is bigger and heavier. He rolls them over and Johanna tries to go for his sidearm, but she can't reach it under his leg. She can't use her knife for fear of stabbing Peeta accidentally.

Then the Peacekeeper has his weapon out and trained on Peeta, pulling him up and yelling at her to get back. Peeta is red-faced, spitting mad, but he doesn't fight.

A few minutes later, both of them are in cuffs, sitting in the dirt outside the train yard office. Another Peacekeeper, a woman, is keeping an eye on them, while the man goes inside to make the call.

"I had him," Johanna hisses at Peeta. "You didn't have to play the big hero."

Peeta glares back at her. "I just saw you - I figured he already knew who you were."

Johanna shushes him. They'll know soon enough, no need to rush things.

"Where did you go anyway?" She asks.

"Into town," Peeta says. "I was buying food and coffee. Then I came back and you were gone."

Johanna wants to scream at him, but the other Peacekeeper is staring at them now. She recognizes them, Johanna's sure of it. She feels sick to her stomach.

She's trying desperately to come up with a plan to get them out of this. The only thing she can think of that might work is convincing the Peacekeepers to let them go, promising money or something - but she keeps feeling water trickle down her neck, reminding her of prison, and if she doesn't get them out of this, she's going back there and she can't, can't face that again.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks.

Johanna shakes her head. "No. Not really."

Then the door opens and the first Peacekeeper comes out. There's an odd look on his face: confusion mixed with anger. He tells them to stand up and Johanna feels a chill run down her back. Are they going to shoot them right now? That is better than being sent back. She squares her shoulders. The woman has to help Peeta to his feet.

Then Johanna feels the cuffs being unlocked and falling away. 

She turns around, shocked. Peeta has been released too. He looks as confused as she feels.

"You're free to go," the man says through gritted teeth. "Just stay off railroad property."

They walk out of the gate and down the road in silence. Johanna can't help looking back, sure that at any moment that the Peacekeepers will realize their mistake. Once they're beyond sight, they circle back and Peeta stands guard while Johanna retrieves her pack.

When Peeta reaches for her, she goes still, expecting another attack. But he puts his arms around her and holds on, burying his face against her shoulder.

That's when it hits her. She flashes on their escape, the explosions, the apparent inability of the Capitol to find them. And now, the Peacekeepers letting them go like that. It's just too suspicious. It has to be a set-up. That's the only explanation that fits - that Snow _wanted_ them to escape. It's just another game.

Now, she can finally start to see the pieces. And she's shaking again. Not with fear or passion, but rage.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a moment that could be read as dubious consent where one character breathes on another character's neck. It is not in the context of a sex scene, but results in sexual arousal. There are fight scenes and descriptions of violence and injuries.


End file.
